


Sex, Truths and Videotapes

by misura



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afghanistan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Irene graciously permits a pair of idiots to film her 'death'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex, Truths and Videotapes

It's a cheap, poor-quality camera - perfect for the job, really. She can give the boys credit for that much, at least - if not for much of anything else beyond, of course, the fact that they have come here at all, proving that gentlemen-idiots yet dwell on British soil.

From Doctor Watson, at least, she'd expected better. "Should I look frightened, you think?"

Sherlock scowls. "Don't be ridiculous. Irene Adler, frightened? He'd suspect something straight away."

 _He_ , presumably, being his brother, given that the only other possible _he_ in Sherlock's life is standing mere feet away, fidgeting with a camera he's clearly never used before. His outfit is nearly identical to Sherlock's, except that somehow, it seems to suit him better. Experience, possibly.

"As opposed to suspecting something when - _what_ were you planning on doing after this, again, Sherlock?" Doctor Watson: so easily mistaken for a reasonable, rational man. At least this time around, he'll be in on the plan - or at least the part of it that requires her to fake her own death.

"Not up to me, John." Sherlock looks at her, and she knows he still doesn't _see_. "Not up to me. Is it?"

 _The Ice Man_ , Moriarty has called his brother. _The Virgin_ , Sherlock.

Wrong on both accounts, she is fairly certain. Typical.

"Is that an invitation to dinner, Mr Holmes?" She might yet enjoy making him beg her for mercy, she thinks. Twice.

"Mrs Hudson happens to be an excellent cook."

She arches an eyebrow at him. "The great Sherlock Holmes doesn't cook?"

"Can't be bothered, more like," Doctor Watson says.

"Great, that's settled then," Sherlock says. "Time to chop someone's head off."

She considers pointing out that, as far as she's concerned, _nothing_ has been settled, but she supposes there's no harm in letting him think otherwise, for the moment.


End file.
